CHAPTER VI (6)- Dormitory
A glass window curved around the room in a semicircle, with the only interruption being a patch of stone wall behind Kizu where a painting showcasing the hallway hung. To his left, a ladder led up to a loft overhead, and that seemed to be as high as the tower reached. He glanced out the window and wondered how far the fall would be if he jumped. Any ground below them was concealed by a layer of fluffy clouds.
In the center of the room, a brazier let off heat with several chairs and couches arranged around it. Only one other boy was in the room. His features were plain and utterly forgettable. Brown hair cut to the brow. While not especially chubby, the boy still had a soft face that accentuated his small eyes. He looked up from his book and glanced at Kizu. A distasteful frown slipped onto his face when he spotted Mort on Kizu’s shoulder.
“You lost? This is the third year’s common room. Go back out the way you came.”
“I am a third year,” Kizu replied coolly. “Where are the living quarters at?”
The boy laughed with no humor. “I know all the third years. In fact, I’ve known them for three years, if you can believe that. You’re not one of them."
"Sorry, I failed my numerology test. Can you help me through this math? We just started the new semester. How have you known everyone for three years?"
"Get out, monkey-boy, or I’ll make you get out.”
“Gladly. Just point me in the direction of my quarters.”
The boy vaulted to his feet. Only then did Kizu finally notice something abnormally memorable about him. His beady eyes glinted with an unfettered fury. Pure, bottomless hatred. He drew a wand from his waistband and pointed it at Kizu.
“Down in the stables with the horses,” he said quietly. “Witches like all sorts, right? Pretty lucky for you. They’re supposedly well-endowed.” He flicked his wand between Kizu and the painting behind him. “Last chance.”
As if reflecting the pulsing anger from the other boy, something in Kizu snapped. He lifted a hand and the entire room darkened. Outside the window, blocking out the sun, the silhouette of a dragon descended on them. It grew closer with each powerful pump of its dark wings which caused the room to shake. Not physically, but visually, which created a sensation of vertigo.
The boy visibly froze in place, wand dangling in his hand as he gawked in horror at the creature swooping towards them.
Kizu stepped forward and slammed a fist into the boy’s jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground. His wand skittered uselessly across the stone floor.
“How’s that for confusion?” Kizu muttered to himself as he dropped the illusion. It would have faded in a moment anyway; extensive full-room illusions were tough to maintain when they involved moving parts.
He flexed his fingers. His knuckles ached. On his shoulder, Mort purred his satisfaction.
Turning away from the downed boy, he looked around the room again and noticed a spiral staircase leading down on the other side of the couch. He left without a glance back.
Scores of doors lined the walls in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. Each of the chambers was labeled, just as James had mentioned. Kizu scanned them, looking for his name. He had to descend down another, second staircase before finally locating his room at the very end of the hall. Kaga Kizu, and above it, Basil.
He slid open the door and was immediately forced back out again, coughing violently as he was assaulted by the aroma of hundreds of perfumes. Blinking ferociously and taking control of his breathing, he dived back inside the room again. A quick glance around showed him a room full of outfits. And not just men’s clothes, either. Women’s clothes lay draped over the desks and hung from the ceiling. Everything from a girl’s school uniform to an elaborate ballgown.
With shallow breaths, Kizu began to adjust to the odors. He tried to process what he was seeing. He noticed that many of the outfits were incomplete in some way. On one of the desks, there was an assortment of threads next to a cloth ball pricked by a dozen needles, bristling like a chestnut shell.
A tailor, Kizu thought. Basil must be some sort of tailor.
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He lifted a pile of men’s jackets off of what he assumed to be his bed and set them over on the opposite bed, which looked more rumpled and slept in. The room seemed in scarce supply of storage, but thankfully he barely owned anything to unpack. He left his one outfit from the crone in his satchel, not even bothering to open the closet.
Finding a single empty drawer in the desk - the rest being filled with different threads and needles - he deposited some basic brewing supplies he had gathered from his family’s gardens, along with the few peaches he’d preserved.
On his pillow rested a small silvery orb. Guessing it to be Basil’s, he picked it up, intending to move it over to Basil’s bed.
It lit up and floated just above his hand.
“Welcome, Kaga Kizu. I will be your guide these next few years. Please ponder and establish a name for me in the near future.” The words flashed over the surface of the orb in the Universal Script as it audibly repeated them in a cold, dispassionate tone.
Kizu stared at the silvery orb and considered. He had read of scrying orbs before, but never seen one in person. On top of being able to scry, obviously, they could send messages directly to other orbs linked to them. But, more interestingly, they often contained a compilation of information. But the contents varied widely depending on who designed it.
“What do you think, Mort?” Kizu asked.
Mort climbed down his arm and quizzically reached out to the floating orb. It bounced slightly at his touch.
“Information. Owl Monkey. Sometimes known as a Specs Monkey or a Night Monkey. A species named for its owl-like eyes and nocturnal habits. In the known world, it is the only fully nocturnal monkey. Like most primates, they’re highly intelligent, rivaling the smartest non-magical creatures. This specific breed is known to be found most commonly in the Hon Basin.”
“This is Mort,” Kizu told the orb. “He’s my familiar.”
“Connection established.”
Mort cocked his head and hummed.
“What can you tell me about my roommate, Basil?” he asked it.
“Basil, Third-Year- Combat-299, Astronomy-346, Divination-411, History-398, Politics-401, Rejuvenation and Restoration- 182, Conjuring-532, Brewing- 501, Numerology- 396, Music- 377 (Piano), Enchanting- 291 , Illusion- 212, Elemental- 233.”
“So, if there are 800 students, he’s pretty average for a third year?”
“That would be an appropriate evaluation, with the exception of his Rejuvenation and Restoration talents, which are almost in the A class.”
In a way, he found it concerning that anyone could look up his placements with only a few words. But he also understood how it might motivate students. Nobody wanted to be the absolute lowest person in any given subject. Which for most courses, meant nobody wanted to be him. At least it would be extremely difficult for him to fall lower in the rankings.
“What can you tell me about him, besides his academic standing?”
“You are not authorized to access any behavioral or disciplinary records.”
He tried rephrasing a couple times but received the same response. He gave up. Probably better to learn from Basil himself anyway. He changed the subject.
“What is my schedule for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow all students have a settling in period. You have nothing recorded for your schedule.”
“What about for the semester? What classes am I signed up for?”
“Period I- History, Period II- Combat, Period III- Astronomy, Period IV- Enchanting, Period V- Music, Period VI- Elemental, Period VII- Brewing. You are signed up to attend three classes a day and they will rotate through the seven classes throughout the week.”
“And which three for my first day?”
“Your first day of classes will be an exception. You are scheduled to attend all seven classes for shortened periods for an orientation class.”
He lay back in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Mort swung from the hanging clothes like vines.
“What do I do for food?” he asked the orb.
“The cafeteria is open from six until ten in the evening for students in the dormitories.”
“And the current time?”
“6:23 in the evening.”
Kizu looked over at the orb, floating and glowing softly. It was incredibly helpful.
“How difficult would it be to enchant something like you?”
“Based on your current enchanting ranking, impossible.”
“What ranking would I need?”
“S for the slightest possibility to present itself.”
He considered that, then changed the topic. “Do I have books to study?”
“Yes, you will be presented with the required texts after your first lessons. The library is also available to all students from six in the morning to midnight. Though certain texts may be restricted based on your ranking, due to the danger of their contents. The entirety of the Living Library is strictly off-limits without permission from faculty.”
The Living Library? That piqued Kizu’s interest, but any follow-up questions were met with a wall. The only thing he seemed authorized to know was that it existed. He supposed he’d have plenty of time to get answers later.
“What do you think, Mort?” Kizu asked, giving up on getting any more information from the orb. “Dinner or the library?”
The monkey answered by jumping on his shoulder and nipping at his ear.
“Dinner it is. Orb, show us the way.”